Some People Just Need A Hug
by Ambassador666
Summary: Season 2 AU in which everyone lives, Allanon tries to be a good mentor, and Bandon sasses everyone. Will there be a happy ending, or will Allanon fail his student and repeat history?


**Disclaimer: I do not own the tv series 'The Shannara Chronicles'**

 **Reasons for starting a new story even though I have others to finish:**

 **\- Plot bunny**

 **\- I was sad Bandon died**

 **\- I need him to be happy**

 **\- I was in a sarcastic mood**

 **Warnings: Bandon is a bit OOC, hope that's okay.**

 **Note!: In this story, everyone lives - excluding the people who died in season 1. Sorry bro.**

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Some People Just Need A Hug

Chapter One

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Bandon wouldn't necessarily call himself a Bad Guy, but he wouldn't necessarily call himself a Good Guy either.

He was more of a Not-Quite-Evil-But-Not-Quite-Good type of Guy. He was a leaf on the wind. He was a player of two worlds.

He was, quite frankly, a realist.

And as a realist, he knew, by all accounts, his enemy should have slaughtered him by now. One does not stall a murder.

That would be impolite.

"…This is the part where you kill me," he relays with a sort of parental encouragement. Allanon has him pinned against a wall, dagger to throat.

They had won. He had lost.

Team Peace and Love wins again. Yay.

How disgustingly predictable.

"Your life…" Allanon says slowly. Tone appropriately drama filled, "is not mine to take."

Bandon looks at him. "I betrayed you, tried to kill you - _many times_ , kidnapped Wil's Uncle and almost killed him, threatened to kill your daughter, resurrected the Warlock Lord, almost caused mass genocide, and - and…" he has to squint, "you refuse to kill me?

"Your life is not mine to take."

Bandon has never felt so offended in his pitiful excuse of a life.

"Then whose is it to take?!" He demands, wanting to know who this elusive person is. Is it Wil? He hoped not, he kind of liked Wil.

Liked him in a way which is to say the boy has a disturbing habit of making enough bad decisions to put Bandon to shame. Hating him would be like hating a rather dim-witted puppy.

One does not hate puppies.

Besides, Bandon would prefer his blood to be on the hands of Allanon's. The idea held a sort of perverted pleasure to it.

"Nobody's." Allanon replies elusively.

"That makes zero sense," Bandon points out. Waggling a broken finger in his face. "You do know that, right? I have numerous enemies who want my head on a stick or mantled on their bedroom wall." Which is all kinds of creepy and this is Bandon speaking - the guy who grew his hair out and looks like a kiddy-pool pedophile.

"Look," he tries to reason, "I've killed a crap tonne of people. I've delved into the darkest of magic I could find, even going so far as apprenticing myself to the Warlock Lord. If you don't kill me now," Bandon leans further in, crazed smile slicing his face. Bloody teeth showing themselves to the world. "I promise you, I'll murder thousands more in your name. And when everyone you hold close is gone, I'll come for you."

"You want me to kill you." Allanon frowns, eyes hard.

"I can't believe this," he mutters to himself. Grumbling. "Did you not just hear what I said?"

"I did, but I do not believe you."

"Did I hit you too hard on the head or were you always this incompetent?"

"Why do you want me to kill you?" Allanon ignores him, tilting his head curiously and Bandon can feel something brush against his mind. Bandon grits his teeth, feeling the Druid's strength steadily pressing against him. "Why, Bandon?"

"Do I truly have to spell it out for you, old man?"

"I'm going to ignore that insult to my age and answer yes."

"Because it's irrational not to." Bandon swallows a sigh when he feels the pressure against his mind release.

"That is…" Allanon trails off again, face pinched. "Profoundly stupid."

"Coming from the man who called himself my mentor and teacher yet did nothing of the sort." Bandon replies, sufficiently bitter. "Who also handed me over to the Warlock Lord with no training _whatsoever_. Yeah," he chuckles, "and I'm the profoundly stupid one."

"I have admitted my wrongdoings, and I have apologised for them."

Bandon lunges forwards, dagger's end biting into skin as he grabs the older Druid by his robes. "No amount of apologies can make up for what you did to me!" he hisses, eyes swirling with power and deep seated rage. _"Nothing_ can make up for what you did!"

Allanon stares back, unfazed and _doing nothing_.

Like he has always done.

"I have wronged you in ways which would make my ancestors rise from their graves if were possible."

Bandon doesn't know where this was heading and he didn't like that. His hand grip's Allanon's on the dagger's handle.

"I don't give a shit about your ancestors and apologies, Allanon. I'm allowing you to kill me now, before I kill you and everyone you love - not in that order."

Something flashes in Allanon's eyes and Bandon can suddenly feel the hallway of Leah oppressively heat up. The hairs on the back of his neck rise and Bandon tries to back away but Allanon grips him tight. Smile threatening and damning.

"What are you doing?"

"Something."

There's a flash of blue, a surge of power, and Bandon _screams_.

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 **So, like, I have an idea where this story will lead to. Review if you'd like me to continue this so I know I'm not wasting time!**


End file.
